


the road to ruin

by Krewlak



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, In Character? I Don't Know Her, Road Trips, Running Away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krewlak/pseuds/Krewlak
Summary: the one where jughead and veronica say “fuck this town” and leave it all behind them.a post 4x17 fantasy
Relationships: Jughead Jones/Veronica Lodge
Comments: 16
Kudos: 114





	the road to ruin

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really even know what this is. i feel like it's outside my usual realm of softness when i write them. i can only hope that y'all still enjoy this. i certainly do.

“I’m leaving,” Veronica says without preamble as she serves Jughead a fresh cup of coffee. “Riverdale, I mean.”

He looks up from his laptop with raised eyebrows. They haven’t spoken since they found the tape in front of her door. After they’d watched the paper mache masks of their significant others mime a pretty intense makeout session, they’d shared a bottle of maple rum and did their best to pretend that the other wasn’t crying. 

After they’d sobered up and come to terms with what they’d seen - what the tapes implied, they’d made a deal. They’d both keep their mouths shut, no one had to know that this tape existed. They’d continue as if nothing was wrong and wait for the voyeur to fuck up, to reveal himself when they didn’t react. Jughead figured that the whole thing was a plea for attention and what better way to ruin whatever plan the voyeur had than by not reacting at all? 

That had been weeks ago and they weren’t any closer to finding the voyeur. 

“Just thought you’d want to know that Pop’s is going to be back under Tate management starting Monday,” Veronica continues. She buses his table and sighs, leaning her hip against the edge. It’s more information than she had planned on giving him but now that she’s started she finds that she can’t stop. “I’m tired of walking around with a fake smile on my face.”

“It’s what we have to do,” Jughead mutters, voice barely above a whisper. “Until we catch the voyeur, we can’t let him know that anything has changed with us.”

“Says you,” Veronica murmurs. “This is your mystery. Not mine, Jones.”

“I’m investigating it, sure, but that doesn’t mean you’re not affected,” Jughead says, shaking his head. “You’re just as involved as I am at this point.”

“Not anymore,” she says, turning on her heel and walking away. “I’m done.”

Jughead watches her go with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He can’t say that he’s not sympathetic to her situation. Pretending to still be in love with your cheating significant other was exhausting. He could feel it wearing on him just as much as it was wearing on Veronica. He runs a hand over his face and laces his fingers together in front of his mouth. 

Part of him knows that he should go after her, that he should at least try to smooth over the roughness of the past few weeks. But he can’t make himself move. He just drinks more coffee and stares at the blinking cursor of his laptop until his vision blurs and time stops having any meaning at all. 

“Come with me,” Veronica says as she materializes at his tableside, pouring more coffee into his mug. Jughead blinks, coming back to the world, and turns to look at her. She’s looking at him through her lashes, purple mouth hanging open slightly. Something about the glint in her eye makes him think of black lingerie and her hair spread across a white pillow. “Come with me, Jughead.”

He doesn’t get a chance to reply before she’s waltzing away from him and whatever momentary madness he’d just felt was over. He’s not stupid or blind. He knows the image that Veronica paints, even in the ugly mustard yellow diner uniform she wears at Pop’s. But he’s never been one to fall under her spell before. He almost gets mad at himself for it, thinking of Betty’s shining green eyes, before he remembers.

Even with Veronica as company, the thought of getting out of Riverdale is a tempting one. A fresh start without any of Riverdale’s darkness - maybe without any of his own darkness. He can practically taste the freedom of it all. It’s not like this was the first time that he’s thought about leaving Riverdale, either, but he always had Betty to think about, Betty to stay for. Now he’s not so sure what’s keeping him here other than the mystery, solving yet another case. 

Jughead closes his laptop with a definitive snap. He shoves it in his bag and slides from the booth, heading over to where Veronica is counting tips behind the counter. She doesn’t look up from what she’s doing, mouth silently counting out her earnings. Jughead lets her finish before saying, “Where would we go?”

“Boston first,” Veronica answers without hesitation. “Hermosa has a place where we can stay.”

“Hermosa?” Jughead asks. He may not know all of the intricacies of Veronica’s life but he knows enough to know that there was a severe lack of sisterly affection when it came to Hermosa Lodge. “Can you trust her?”

“She’s not my favorite person,” Veronica says through her teeth, exhaling loudly. “But she’s not totally corrupt either. She had it set up for me when she thought I’d helped Betty murder you. Don’t ask.”

Jughead stores that tidbit of information in the back of his mind. He won’t ask now but he knows that he’s going to want the story later. He leans across the counter and watches the way her fingers organize the bills in her hands so they’re all facing the same direction. He has the same pet peeve. 

“And after Boston?” Jughead asks because he wants to know her full plan. Even if he isn’t sure that he’s going to join her, even if he isn’t sure that running away from Riverdale will actually fix anything. He just wants to know her plan is solid. “What then?”

“I don’t know,” Veronica says with a shrug. But there’s the tiniest bit of a smile on her face, something hopeful in her eye that he hasn’t seen since she first moved to Riverdale. “But isn’t that the best part of starting over?”

“Why would you want me to tag along on your grand adventure?” Jughead asks, frowning a little. “We aren’t exactly best buddies.”

Veronica studies him for a minute. The circles under his eyes are darker and the hair that’s sticking out of his beanie looks greasy and unwashed. Jughead Jones has seen better days since coming back from the dead. “Aren’t you tried, Jughead?”

“Tired?” he asks, voice low. 

Veronica nods and looks away from him as she continues, “Tired of fixing everyone else’s problems but never finding a solution for your own? Tired of fighting for something that doesn’t exist? Just. Bone deep, bottom of your soul tired?”

“Sometimes,” Jughead says. 

He hadn’t meant to answer honestly, hadn’t meant to answer at all, but he finds it hard to keep his guard up when her face is so open. She’s turned away from him, sure, but he can still see the way her eyes grow distant and how her mouth tilts downwards. He’s sure that if she were facing him head on that there’d be a wrinkle between her eyebrows as well. 

“I think we both need to get out of here,” Veronica continues. “If we ever want to make it in this life. We need to get out of Riverdale.”

“It’s a place of dead roads,” Jughead agrees. She’s not wrong. Nothing about Riverdale has said bright and sunny future to him. The plan has always been to get out and never look back but it was always with Betty on one side and Archie on the other. He never imagined getting out of the town with pep with Veronica Lodge. 

“Exactly,” Veronica says, finally turning to him. She raises a single eyebrow. “Don’t you think we deserve better than that?”

“What about school?” Jughead asks because he’s nothing if not thorough. 

“Literally the least of my problems,” Veronica says, waving her hand. The bell over the door rings out and she looks away from him, her face slipping into a cool pleasantness for customers. “Stick around. You can ask me all the probing questions you want.”

Jughead doesn’t get the chance to give her an answer before she walks away from him and towards the new table. He watches her switch on her charm, hiding away the honest vision of herself that he’d just gotten. It's a neat trick to have that Jughead isn’t entirely sure Veronica is grateful for. Considering that she probably learned that particular skill from her parents, Jughead doesn’t blame her. 

He doesn’t wait for her to finish up with the newest round of customers, slipping out the back entrance while she’s dashing around with serving trays after serving tray of food. The walk home clears some of the fog from his head, hardens his resolve to face Betty and play the doting boyfriend. He’s not sure how far the voyeur’s grasp reaches but Jughead knows that he’s being watched - they all are - and he needs to stay sharp. 

He tries not to replay Veronica’s offer in his mind, tries not to recreate the longing on her face when she talked about being tired. He knows that a year ago, he would have jotted the whole exchange down, saving it for future reference for his novel. But now he wants to keep it close, to inspect it over and over again just to make sure it wasn’t a fever dream or something. 

No one is home when Jughead walks through the door. He’s grateful for that small mercy as he trudges upstairs to the room he shares with Betty. He looks through the window towards Archie’s room out of habit, eyes seeking the familiar redhead. He wonders, not for the first time, how many times Betty did the same thing over the years - how many times did she do it while with Jughead? Did she stop looking longingly out her window for Archie? Did he just stop noticing it when she did? Had he always been so fucking blind to it?

He vaguely remembers the argument they had the night of his sixteenth birthday. The way he’d shouted all his worst insecurities at her - about being a placeholder for Archie, how they were on borrowed time. Maybe he hadn’t always been blind to it but he’d definitely turned a blind eye the longer he was with Betty. He’d had to in order to love her as fully as he had. He hates that the insecure loner that he hasn’t been in two years ended up being right in the end. 

“Jug?” Betty calls from the first floor. Jughead braces himself before calling back and going to greet her. She smiles as he descends the stairs but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It hasn’t quite gotten there ever since she’d signed back onto the mystery. “Where’ve you been?”

“Pop’s,” he mutters, leaning down to kiss her cheek and take her backpack. She touches his cheek briefly, thumb brushing over the apple, as she passes him heading into the kitchen. “Wanted to try and get some writing done.”

“And?” she asks, eyebrows raising hopefully. She knows all about his current bout of writer’s block though she doesn’t know the reason is her. “Any luck?”

“Not so much,” Jughead mutters, shaking his head. “What about you? Figured you’d be upstairs with a book by now.”

“Got caught up working on a paper with Kevin,” she mutters, pouring herself a glass of juice. She doesn’t meet his eye and he wonders vaguely if she’s lying. If she was with Archie and their clandestine kiss in Archie’s garage lead to something more. “They actually ended up kicking us out.”

It’s not the first time that the thought has crossed his mind since he saw the tape. The longer he goes without confronting her, though, the more often he has it. Every excuse, every time she’s out of the house without him, a voice whispers in his ear wondering if she’s with him. If every time she leans over to kiss Jughead is she thinking of Archie? 

“Always so studious,” Jughead murmurs, running a hand over his face. He tries to banish the doubting thoughts, tries to quiet the insidious voice inside of him. It doesn’t help him keep his calm, doesn’t make sitting in front of Betty every night any easier. He wonders when his girlfriend developed a better poker face than him.

“Are you okay?” Betty asks, leaning forwards to cup his cheek more firmly this time. It’s a classic Betty Cooper move, one that used to comfort him but does nothing for him now. He just searches Betty’s eyes for whatever it was that kept him in Riverdale these past two years - love, support, home? He can’t remember what it was and he can’t see it to remind him. “You seem out of it, Jug.”

“I know,” Jughead whispers, the words heavy on his tongue. Betty frowns in confusion, thumb rubbing back and forth of the apple of his cheek. “About the kiss. I know, Betty.”

“Wha - h-how?” Betty whispers, pulling her hand back and horror painting her features. “How do you know?”

“You’re not even going to deny it?” Jughead asks, the last bit of hope that he held so damn close to his chest withering up and dying. “Not even once?”

“It was a mistake,” Betty says instantly, reaching back out to cup Jughead’s face in her hands. “It was a moment of . . . of uncertainty an-and fear but it doesn’t matter, Jughead.”

“It doesn’t matter that you kissed my best friend?” Jughead asks with a scoff. “Again? How many times can you kiss the same person and call it a mistake, Betty?”

“I love  _ you _ , Jughead,” Betty pleads. She steps closer to him, pulling his face towards her. Her eyes glance at his mouth and his stomach drops at the thought of her kissing him right now. He jerks back, her nails dragging against his cheeks. “I chose  _ you _ .”

“You  _ chose _ me?” Jughead repeats with a disbelieving laugh. “That’s perfect. I feel so goddamn special. Betty Cooper chose  _ me _ , her boyfriend for the past three years, over her best friend’s boyfriend. Thank you.”

Jughead pulls away from her and backs up with his hands up. Betty takes a half-step towards him but thinks better of it, curling in on herself instead. Jughead runs a hand through his hair, dislodging the beanie that she had made him. He stares at it for a long minute before asking, “Would you ever have told me?”

The guilt that flashes across her face is answer enough for him. Jughead nods and drops the hat on the kitchen island before walking past her back to their room. She doesn’t follow him up so she can’t watch him shoving his clothes into the duffel bag that used to carry his entire life in. He grabs the few keepsakes he wants to keep - pictures that he’s taken, books he can’t live without. 

He leaves behind copious amounts of notebooks about the cases that he’s worked - the memories he’s made with Betty hidden between the pages and written into the margins. There’s no room for them - in his bag or his life.

Betty is pacing in the foyer, hands curled into tight fists and tears streaming down her face, as Jughead descends the stairs. She chokes on her tears as soon as she sees his duffel bag by his feet. She rushes towards him, hands out and pleading, “Don’t go, Jughead. Please.”

“Move, Betty,” Jughead says, not looking at her directly. He doesn’t know if he can do this while looking her dead in the eye. “Please.”

“We have been through  _ so _ much,” Betty says. She inhales shakily and tries to smile through her tears. “Please. Don’t give up on me now.”

Jughead clenches his jaw and sniffs loudly. He tries to blink away the tears in his eyes, tries to harden himself a little more, tries to ignore the aching inside of him. He knew this day would come - the second he saw that tape, he knew. It doesn’t make it any easier to get through. 

“You gave up on us first, Betts,” Jughead mumbles, the nickname slipping out like second nature. Her face falls again, guilt clouding her features. Jughead takes the moment to step past her, grabbing his Serpent jacket as he leaves the house. 

He runs back to Pop’s just to put as much distance between himself and the girl who manages to keep breaking his heart. The only thing he can hear is the pounding of his heart and his boots pounding against the pavement. His bag bangs against his side, a constant reminder of the decision he’s made. The neon light of Pop’s calling out to him, acting as a beacon in the darkness of this town.

Veronica is perched behind the counter, reading glasses sliding down her nose and a book resting against a napkin dispenser. The rest of the diner is empty, only Pop Tate occupying a booth as he reads the paper for the day. He nods at Jughead and makes a show of folding up his paper and finishing his coffee before he wanders behind the counter and into the back office. The sound of the lock turning and an old motown song starting - something crooning and familiar.

“I’m in,” he says. Veronica doesn’t look up from her book, just turns the page and bops her head to the beat of the song. “Did you hear me? I said I’m in.”

“I heard you, Jughead,” Veronica mumbles as she bookmarks her page and takes her glasses off. She purses her lips and looks him up and down, lingering on his duffel bag, the Serpent jacket over his shoulders, the lack of his beanie. “Are you sure?”

“There’s nothing holding me here,” he says, shrugging a little. Veronica raises her eyebrows and Jughead can see the question swarming in her brown eyes. “I want better than this place of dead roads.”

“You’ve been walking the path of dead roads for a while now, Jughead,” Veronica says slowly. She rests her elbow on the counter, propping up her chin with the palm of her hand. “You sure you’re made to walk a different path?”

“Are you?” Jughead snaps back. “We may not have been hand in hand but we’ve been walking the same path for a few years now. Are  _ you _ sure that you can walk a different path?”

Something flashes behind Veronica’s eyes, something that Jughead doesn’t quite understand but it’s not there long enough for him to figure it out. She huffs and looks away from him, eyes narrowing at the window. Jughead cracks his neck and moves around the counter, fixing himself a cup of coffee as Veronica thinks. 

He doesn’t know what she has to think about. She’s the one who invited him to leave with her, who said that they could only thrive anywhere else outside of Riverdale. Maybe she’s changed her mind in the time since he’d left. Maybe she’s changed her mind about leaving at all. 

“My bags are downstairs. I’ll set up a cot for you,” Veronica says finally. “We’ll leave in the morning.”

#  -

“You’re going to have to talk to me on this road trip, you know,” Veronica mumbles as they pass the Riverdale welcome sign. He hasn’t spoken a word since he picked her up from in front of the Pembrooke. His knuckles are nearly white with how tightly he’s gripping the steering wheel and Veronica isn’t sure if he’s nervous about committing or about her. “Not that we’ve had that many conversations just the two of us before but I promise I am quite the conversationalist.”

“Maybe you can start by not acting so glib about this,” Jughead grumbles. He shifts in his seat and glances at Veronica out of the corner of his eye, not turning away from the road at all. 

“Excuse me for trying to be friendly,” Veronica snaps. “I was just trying to lighten the mood, Jughead. I wasn’t serious.”

“Could have fooled me,” he replies, voice still low and under his breath. Veronica scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Not every moment needs to be filled with your voice, Veronica. Maybe I was enjoying the silence.”

“It didn’t look like you were enjoying anything,” Veronica says with a shrug. “It looked like you were second guessing this entire endeavour.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Jughead asks, finally looking at her with raised eyebrows. “I am leaving town with you - what more do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, Jughead,” Veronica says slowly. “But if you have doubts, if you’re already regretting this decision, you might as well turn around now.”

“Why the hell would I turn around?” Jughead snaps, grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I made my choice and I’m sticking to it.”

“Well then, maybe, try not looking completely miserable,” Veronica snaps back. Her patience always runs thin when it comes to him, it always has. She can’t see that changing any time soon, especially if he plans on being a grump this entire time.

“Excuse me for not exactly being thrilled that I’m running away from my hometown with my tail tucked between my legs,” Jughead says, voice rising a bit so that he’s almost yelling. He hasn’t yelled at her in years. Veronica had always chalked it up to Archie and Betty playing peacekeeper between them. “This isn’t the way I thought I’d ever leave Riverdale.”

“What would you rather do, Jughead?” Veronica asks with a scoff. “Turn around and fight Archie for Betty’s perfect, pale hand? Or maybe you thought that if you just moped around town long enough and kept making moon eyes at her that she’d forget all about Archie and commit herself entirely to you? Is that it? I mean that’s how you won her over in the first place, isn’t it?”

“Fuck you, Veronica.”

“Fuck you, too!” 

Veronica crosses her arms and sinks deeper into the seat. Jughead reaches over to turn the radio on, turning the volume up until she can barely think through the noise. She doesn’t recognize the song playing but it doesn’t matter. They need something to fill the angry silence between them that ends up lasting until they make their first stop for breakfast. 

Veronica doesn’t bother waiting for him to turn the truck off before she’s hopping out and heading into the small diner. It’s nothing like Pop’s on the outside but as soon as she walks through the door she feels like she’s home. The black and white tiled floors, the vinyl booths and counter stools, the ugly green waitress uniforms. It’s all so familiar that it makes her ache. 

“I guess diners don’t vary much,” Jughead mumbles as he walks in behind her. She doesn’t acknowledge that he’s spoken at all. She’s still annoyed that he’s been an ass all morning and not quite ready to let it go. “Doubt their shakes can match up to Pop’s though.”

A waitress passes by them, blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, and raises her eyebrows at them. “Seat yourself. I’ll be with you in a moment, honey.”

Veronica looks at Jughead out of the corner of her eye, watches the way his eyes follow the sway of the waitress’s ponytail, before huffing and grabbing him by his jacket sleeve. She drags him over to an empty table in the corner, smoothing her skirt before sitting down on the tacky green formica chair. Jughead sits opposite her but he’s not paying any attention to what she’s doing. He’s still watching the waitress with sad eyes and Veronica can’t stand it. 

He’s not the only one whose heart was broken. He’s not the only one who was cheated on. He’s not the only one who had to pretend to be happy and in love for weeks on end. They went through all of that together but he continues to act like he’s alone on this journey of whatever it is they’re doing. Veronica huffs and opens the menu, holding it up to block him out of her view. She can’t stand the sight of him right now. 

“Just because you can’t see me doesn’t mean that I’m going to magically disappear,” Jughead grumbles after a long minute of silence. Veronica tilts the menu down for a brief moment so that Jughead can see her rolling her eyes. “Real mature.”

“You know that quiet you were so fond of in the truck?” Veronica asks, narrowing her eyes at him. This time it’s his turn to roll his eyes. He even throws a groan in for dramatic effect. Veronica doesn’t let that deter her though. “Let’s go back to that, shall we?”

“Maybe you’re the one who’s regretting leaving town now?” Jughead mutters as he looks at his own menu. 

Veronica hisses through her teeth and leans forward, preparing to rip him a new one, when the waitress comes up to their table. She looks between the two of them with raised eyebrows but just sighs as she takes her notepad out. “You two ready to order?”

“I’ll have the grand slam with a side of home fries and extra bacon,” Jughead rattles off, eyes flicking between the menu and the waitress’s blonde ponytail. “And black coffee.”

“How do you want your eggs?” she asks, jotting down the rest of his order. 

“Scrambled hard,” Jughead says without thinking. Veronic wonders how many times he’s ordered basically the same thing at Pop’s. “Actually, can you double that order of home fries, too?”

“Of course,” she replies before turning to Veronica. “And for you?”

“The egg white omelet with a fruit parfait,” Veronica says quickly. “And a cup of coffee as well - cream and sugar on the side.”

“You want this on one check?” the waitress mumbles as she jots down Veronica’s order. Her eyes flick between the two of them, probably sensing the tension radiating between the two of them. She lingers on Jughead’s sad expression for a long minute especially. 

“One check is fine,” Veronica says, drawing the waitress’s attention back to herself. She gives the woman a tight-lipped smile and hands her both her own and Jughead’s menu. “Thanks.”

“Sure thing,” the waitress mumbles. “Food’ll be up in a few. I’ll be right back with your coffee.”

As soon as the waitress is out of sight, Veronica reaches across the table and grabs Jughead’s chin. She turns his sad, pitiful gaze away from the blonde with a sharp jerk, not caring if her nails are digging into his skin or not. The look he gives her would probably kill if he had the power. 

“Get. Over. It,” Veronica says slowly through her teeth. She jerks her hand back when the waitress comes back with their coffees, plastering a smile on her face. Jughead stares at her with wide eyes, not even acknowledging the cup of coffee in front of him. As soon as the waitress walks away, Veronica’s smile drops. “I don’t give a shit what you have to do - drink it away, bottle it up until it kills you, fucking cry your eyes out when you’re alone - but you need to pull your shit together.”

“What are you even talking about?” Jughead asks. He runs a hand through his hair, fingers tangling in his hair. For a wild second, Veronica actually misses the beanie. 

“I’m talking about you giving the waitress moon eyes just because she slightly resembles your ex-girlfriend,” Veronica explains. She sips her coffee and grimaces. It’s burnt. She pours in extra cream and sugar, doing her best to hide the bitterness in the cup. “You can’t just pine after her for the rest of your life, you know. She’s probably already moved on.”

Jughead stands up from the table, his chair sliding back loudly and drawing attention to the both of them. Veronica slowly looks up at him with raised eyebrows. He’s glaring down at her, chest heaving as he pants. She doesn’t let it bother her. She’s stared down scarier people than Jughead Jones. She sips her coffee again, finding it much more palatable than it was before, and waits for Jughead to figure himself out. 

“Are you going to keep standing there or are you going to sit down and drink your coffee?” Veronica asks after a long minute. The stares haven’t stopped and she’s tired of being watched. “Make a decision, Jughead.”

He drops down into his chair and crosses his arms. Veronica hears the air rush out of the seat cushion as he sinks deeper into his seat. He doesn’t pick up his coffee, doesn’t do anything other than glare at Veronica until she rolls her eyes and snaps, “Just say it.”

“If Betty has already moved on then you know that Archie has too,” he says. She’s not sure if he’s trying to spare her feelings or his own by softening his voice. Either way, it isn’t working. “In fact, they’re moving on together.”

“Jesus Chirst,” Veronica murmurs into the rim of her mug before slamming it down on the table. “Go home, Jughead.”

“What?” he asks. He actually has the audacity to look shocked by her suggestion. 

“Clearly you don’t want to be here,” Veronica says, waving a hand at him. “You want to be back in Riverdale chasing after Betty Cooper. So go do that.”

“And what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to Boston,” Veronica says. “I’m starting over. Again.”

“You can’t run away from him, you know,” Jughead says. He finally relaxes and reaches for his coffee, making a face when he tastes how burnt it is. Veronica takes pity on him and slides the remaining sugar packets his way. “He’s always going to be there. At the back of your mind. Doesn’t matter how much space you put between you and Riverdale.” 

“Oh Juggiekins,” Veronica says with a sharp smirk. “You clearly don’t know me very well.”

The waitress brings them their plates and Jughead makes a show of keeping his eyes on Veronica’s instead of the blonde ponytail. It does nothing to endear him to her and she lets him know that as soon as the waitress walks away. Jughead just scoffs and pulls his chair closer to the table before diving into the mountain of food in front of him. They stay silent as they eat their breakfast and it’s more peaceful than the silence they shared in the car. Veronica takes it for the win that it is. 

She’s only halfway through her omelet when Jughead swipes up the last of the syrup on his plate with his last piece of bacon. She’s seen him eat before but it always amazes her just how much he manages to inhale in only a few minutes. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and slurps down the rest of his coffee before leaning back in his chair. Veronica doesn’t eat any faster, continuing to daintily sip at her coffee as she goes. 

“So what are you going to do in Boston?” Jughead asks eventually. She looks up from her plate briefly with a dry look. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Then don’t pretend that you care about my plans,” Veronica says with a shrug. She finishes her eggs and moves onto her parfait with a pleased hum. She waves her spoon at Jughead, narrowing her eyes a little. “Let’s not pretend that we aren’t just a means to an end for each other, okay? We’re not friends, Jughead.”

“Who the fuck runs away with someone who isn’t their friend, Veronica?” Jughead asks with a disbelieving stare. Veronica is actually shocked that he’s fighting her on this. He’s never been one to call her a friend - not directly at least, not without Betty and Archie as buffers between their clashing personalities. “Who the fuck trusts someone enough to run away with them but won’t call them a friend?”

“It’s not that deep, Jones,” Veronica mumbles around her spoon. The waitress comes back and refills their coffee cups but, again, Jughead purposefully keeps his eyes on Veronica’s. Veronica smirks a little before turning her winning smile towards the waitress. “Do you think we could get a couple of cups to go as well?”

“Sure thing, honey,” she replies with a sharp nod before looking at Jughead. “And you, sweetie? You need anything else?”

Jughead’s eyes jerk to the waitress for a split second. It’s long enough for Veronica to see a hint of sadness in their blue-green depths. It makes her stomach turn over and she clenches her jaw to keep her breakfast down. Jughead finally shakes his head, pressing his mouth into a thin line. The waitress shrugs and moves on without a second thought. The silence settles back around them and Veronica does nothing to break it. 

#  -

Two days pass before Archie tries calling her. She doesn’t answer. Hits ignore and flips her phone over on the side table so that she doesn’t have to look at his contact photo. She can feel Jughead staring at her but she ignores him just as easily as she ignores Archie’s phone call. She’s surprised that it took him so long to reach out to her in the first place. She had thought that he would have called as soon as he realized that she was gone. Maybe Jughead was right, maybe he’d rushed into Betty’s arms as soon as he could. 

Jughead’s phone rings next - the X-Files theme music blaring loudly from it’s speakers. Veronica turns up the motel room TV and sinks lower into her bedding, pulling one of the extra pillows into her lap. She looks at Jughead out of the corner of her eye. He’s staring at his phone screen with a frown while the ringtone starts over again. Veronica squeezes the pillow a little tighter and waits for Jughead to make a decision. Just when her patience starts to run out, he answers the phone, “You shouldn’t be calling me, Archie.”

Veronica rolls her eyes and turns the TV up again. Jughead makes a disgruntled sound but Veronica doesn’t know if it's directed at her or Archie. She hopes that it’s directed at Archie. He’s been on the call longer than she could have managed but she was always one to hold a grudge. While Jughead might be a judgmental shit on the best of days, Veronica doesn’t think he has it in him to hold a grudge against anyone let alone Archie Andrews. 

“I’m not going to get into this with you, man,” Jughead mumbles. “What’s done is done.”

Veronica clenches her jaw and tries to ignore the way her stomach twists up. He never should have answered the phone. He should have just let it go to voicemail and let it be. They didn’t owe anyone in Riverdale anything and Veronica can’t understand why Jughead doesn’t see that. Betty and Archie ruined everything, not them. They’ve earned their freedom from that hell town, from those people that managed to drag them down and how they dragged down in turn. 

“She didn’t answer for a reason, Arch,” Jughead says softly before pinching the bridge of his nose. Veronica gives up the pretense of watching TV and turns towards Jughead’s bed with a frown. He actively ignores her, sitting perfectly still in his bed. He’s sure that if he doesn’t move, doesn’t react to her at all, she’ll drop it. “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Give me the phone,” Veronica snaps, holding her hand out. Jughead scoffs and scoots towards the other side of his bed. “Dammit, Jughead.”

“I can hear her,” Archie says in his ear. Jughead rolls his eyes and switches ears. “I can fucking hear her in the room with you, Jug.”

“Jughead,” Veronica snaps, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed and holding out her hand. “I can fight my own battles.”

“There’s no battle to fight,” Jughead says, tilting his phone away from his mouth. He glares at her a little but makes no move to give her the phone. He knows that Archie can hear him but he doesn’t hang up either. As much as he hates it, the familiar sound of Archie’s voice is comforting. “You didn’t answer the phone for a reason, right?”

“And look what that accomplished,” Veronica says with a pointed look at the phone. 

“Just put her on the phone, Jughead,” Archie demands again in his ear. 

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Jughead snaps at Archie. “You’ve hurt her enough already. I’m not going to let you do it again.”

“I do not need your protection!” Veronica shouts, jumping up from her bed and reaching across him to grab at the phone. “I am perfectly capable of talking to my cheating ex, Jughead Jones.”

“Back off,” Jughead replies, pushing off from his bed and leaning against the wall. He still has his phone pressed to his ear, still has Archie chirping in his ear. He should hang up, get rid of the temptation of home entirely, but he can’t do it. “I’m not giving you my phone.”

“Let her fight her own battles, Jughead!” Archie shouts and Jughead can picture the scowl gracing his features perfectly. “Let her explain herself to me directly!”

“Right,” Jughead says with a bitter laugh. “Like you explained what the fuck you were thinking when you kissed my girlfriend, right?”

“She chose  _ you _ , Jughead!” Archie shouts. “Betty fucking chose you - what more do you want?”

“I wanted my girlfriend to not fucking kiss the guy who is supposed to be my best friend, Archie!” Jughead shouts back, tugging on his hair. It’s gotten so damn long and always manages to get in his eyes. He wishes that he could rip it out by the root, yank on it til his scalp is raw and bleeding and he looks as terrible as he feels. “Is that so fucking hard to believe? There was never a fucking choice for me - never an ounce of doubt but I’m supposed to be okay with my girlfriend having to cheat on me to make her realize that I’m the one? Fuck that.”

Veronica launches herself across Jughead’s bed and snatches the phone from his hand, saying a quick, “Talk to you later, Andrews,” before hanging up the phone. 

“What are you doing?” Jughead asks, reaching for his phone. Veronica holds it out of reach before scurrying back across his bed and getting into her own. “Veronica!”

“I am saving you from yourself,” Veronica says, shoving his phone under her thigh and crossing her arms. “You were making a fool of yourself.”

“That’s my right when it’s my fucking phone,” Jughead grumbles before marching across the room and hovering over her. Veronica just raises her eyebrows, silently daring him to try it. “Give it back.”

“No.”

“You can’t just take my phone,” Jughead huffs, holding his hand out expectantly. “Give it back.”

The phone vibrates under her thigh and Veronica does her best not to flinch. Jughead hears it though, the faint wail of his ringtone calling out to him. He’s sure that it’s Archie calling him back ready to keep fighting, ready to keep demanding that Veronica talk to him. Jughead isn’t even sure how he got caught in the middle of the two of them. 

“Why would I do that?” Veronica asks, focusing all of her attention on the TV. It’s some trashy late-night talk show featuring a blended family. A blended family where the eldest children are dating. The irony isn’t lost on her. Jughead doesn’t move though, doesn’t drop his hand or go back to the safety of his half of the motel room. “Don’t worry, Jughead. Your precious phone is safe with me.”

“I’m not worried about it’s safety,” Jughead grumbles, finally dropping his hand. He still doesn’t go back to bed, doesn’t move from the edge of Veronica’s bed. “I just want it back.”

“Let me guess,” Veronica says, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. “You stare at pictures of your lost love in the late hours of the night when sleep escapes you. It brings a macabre sort of comfort but you still keep it a secret out of a bitter shame.”

“Speaking from experience, are we?” Jughead asks before sighing and running a hand over his face. He gives Veronica another long look before giving up and flopping down onto his motel bed. “Are we seriously going to watch this?”

“Hitting a little too close to home?” Veronica replies. Jughead clenches his jaw but doesn’t turn to look at her. He won’t give her the satisfaction. “I never really asked Betty about it but you two must have talked about the whole blended family thing, right?”

“Don’t.”

Veronica ignores him and continues, “I mean, it’s a pretty huge deal - your parents shacking up. Not to mention the whole secret love child thing.”

“Seriously, Veronica,” Jughead says, voice low and dangerous. It does nothing to deter her. She’s out for blood tonight. “Don’t.”

“Obviously that one degree of separation didn’t stop you two from being together,” Veronica says, tapping her chin with her index finger. “But didn’t your parents ever say anything about you two sharing a room? I mean, it’s one thing to not stop you two from dating but actively encouraging you two to play house while they played house? Seems a bit much to me.”

“No one asked for your opinion,” Jughead snaps. “In fact, I specifically asked you to drop it.”

“I mean, Archie and I weren’t together when our parents had their little affair,” Veronica says as the show goes to commercial. She shivers dramatically. “But just the thought makes me wig a little.”

“Because your dad putting multiple hits out on your boyfriend is so much fucking healthier,” Jughead says, finally getting Veronica’s full attention. She opens her mouth to say something back but Jughead doesn’t let her finish. “At least our parents accepted our relationship and supported us. It’s more than you could ever say.”

“Says the boy who fucked his step sister every night,” Veronica snaps, giving up any pretense at being subtle. Jughead just laughs in her face. She hates that laugh. “At least Archie and I had something real. We didn’t need murder and mayhem to bring us together.”

“No just the sweet, sweet thrill of teenage bodies pressed against each other,” Jughead replies without any hesitation. Veronica wonders just how long he’s been dying to say something along those lines to her. She’d known that’s what Betty thought about Veronica’s relationship with Archie. It’s almost disappointing to hear that Jughead agreed with her. 

“Is that the best you’ve got?” she asks, voice low and bored. Jughead’s eyes widen comically and there’s the barest hint of a blush on his cheeks. “I’m disappointed, Jughead.”

Veronica turns the TV off and lays down fully, pulling the blanket up to her chin and tossing Jughead’s phone to him. Jughead just stares at her, mouth opening and closing without saying anything. She doesn’t care what he has to say anymore. She’s tired and they have more driving to do in the morning. She closes her eyes and turns her back on him, ending the conversation, ending the night. 

He turns off the light and settles into his own bed, turning his back on Veronica. His phone rests against his pillow, a familiar bedmate. When he’s sure that Veronica’s asleep, he turns the light on his phone down and pulls up his photos. He’s only scrolled through the first few candid shots that he has saved of Betty when a hand reaches out of the darkness over his shoulder and takes his phone away. 

“Enough, Jughead,” Veronica says as she kneels on the edge of his bed. She turns his phone off, dropping it off the edge of the bed and lays down next to him. He’s too shocked to say anything, too confused about what she’s doing to react in any way at all. She doesn’t touch him, doesn’t do anything other than lay on her back next to him, but the feeling is comforting in it’s own way. “We’ve given them enough. They don’t get anymore, okay?”

If his eyes start to burn with unshed tears and he scoots closer to her in the bed, the edge of his hand brushing against hers. If she takes his hand without hesitation and squeezes tight. If they end up crying into each other’s hair until they both finally fall asleep wrapped around each other. If all of that happens, it’s no one’s business but their own. 

#  -

“This seems like a waste of money, you know,” Jughead mumbles to Veronica as she inspects the phone display. “Our phones work perfectly fine.”

“If you don’t want a new phone that’s fine,” Veronica replies. “But I feel like I deserve a treat and if I’m going to change my phone number, I might as well upgrade while I’m at it.”

“Where are you even getting this money from?” Jughead asks, shoving his hands into his pockets and pouting a little. He doesn’t disagree that changing their phone numbers is a smart move. Ever since Archie’s late night phone call, his line has been blowing up with texts and calls from various people in Riverdale. Never Betty though. He pretends that it doesn’t sting but he knows that Veronica can see right through him. 

“Pop Tate is managing the diner but it’s still my business,” Veronica says like it's obvious. “You seriously thought I’d just run off into the night without a single penny? Do you even know me, Jones?”

“I really, really don’t,” Jughead mumbles as he grabs a car charger for the truck. He waves it in front of Veronica’s face. “Think you can cover this, moneybags?”

“I didn’t hear you complaining when I paid for our motel rooms,” Veronica replies, snatching the charger from him as she goes up to the counter. The sales clerk plasters a bright smile onto her face, eyes flicking between Jughead’s sullen form and Veronica’s nails tapping against the glass counter. “I’d like to start a family plan for my husband and I.”

The girl’s eyes widen just a fraction but her smile doesn’t dim. Jughead’s eyes, however, nearly pop out of his head in shock. Veronica reaches back without turning away from the sales clerk, grabbing Jughead’s hand and dragging him forward. He trips over the toe of his boot, groaning a little when his knee connects with the corner of the counter. 

“He’s completely inept when it comes to technology,” Veronica says, giving him a demure smile. He knows that smile. It’s the same condescending smile she’d give to anyone who tried to rain on her parade. It was sweet enough that most people didn’t see it for the vicious weapon that it was until it was too late. The girl behind the counter doesn’t fare any better. “So he’s not going to upgrade his phone. I, however, am a girl of the technological age and would like the lavender iphone 11.”

“I’ll have to check to see if we have any in stock,” the sales clerk mumbles before walking away from the counter. Veronica watches her go before turning towards Jughead with a dry look. 

“You could have handled that better.”

“You could have warned me before calling me your husband,” Jughead hisses. Veronica snorts a little, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “I’m glad my discomfort amuses you.”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Veronica says, rolling her eyes. “It just seemed easier.”

“Easier?” Jughead asks, voice flat and unamused. 

“Fine,” Veronica groans. “Easier and funnier than just getting the plan without a backstory.”

“I just,” Jughead hisses, towering over Veronica. She raises her eyebrows at him, a silent questioning of his menacing state. He grits his teeth and runs a hand over his mouth, looking over her shoulder towards the stockroom. “Are you that fucking bored on this trip that you have to embarrass me in front of some random cell phone peddler?”

“As if having me for a wife could ever be embarrassing,” Veronica replies with a scoff. She reaches up and presses her thumb to the spot between his eyebrows, smoothing the wrinkle there. “You’re too young for wrinkles. You should try my night cream. Does wonders for these little stress marks.”

“Fuck off,” Jughead grunts, smacking her hand away from his face as the sales girl comes back out. She gives the two of them an awkward smile and holds out the box for Veronica’s new phone. 

“Found the last one,” she says as she unpacks it and plugs it in to charge. Veronica’s smile brightens a bit more as she drops her old phone onto the counter. “Let’s get the new account started, shall we?”

Jughead tunes Veronica out as she starts to rattle off her information. It doesn’t escape his notice that she provides a fake name for herself - Monica Posh - but uses his full name. It sounds fake enough. He takes the time to pull his phone out, scrolling through the photos. His fingers brush along the scratches that litter his phone case, the edges of faded and half-peeled off stickers. The home screen background is still a picture of Betty, eyes drowsy and smiling at him from a sea of pillows. 

“And you, Mr Jones?” the sales clerk asks, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Ready to change your number?”

Jughead blinks at her, phone clutched in his hand. Veronica elbows him in the side, glaring at him to be a normal human being for five minutes. He gently puts his phone down on the counter and slides it towards the girl, mumbling, “Actually, I’d like an upgrade as well.”

“Oh,” she says with raised eyebrows, turning to Veronica. Veronica is watching him through narrowed eyes, taking his measure. He’s sure that she wants to see if he’s serious, if his resolve is solid. He doesn’t flinch under her stare. He refuses to. “Well, do you want the same phone as your wife?”

“In black,” Veronica answers for him. She turns away from Jughead and smiles at the sales clerk. “And don’t worry about transferring anything from our old devices.”

“Are you sure?” the sales girl asks, looking at Jughead. “It would only take a few minutes to transfer everything over.”

He wraps his arm around Veronica’s shoulder and swallows down the lump in his throat. Veronica doesn’t react other than to lean into his side and rest her hand on his chest. He tries to smile at the sales girl and says, “Wipe the whole damn thing.”

#  -

Veronica hums and presses her face into Archie’s neck, fingers reaching up to tangle in the baby hairs at the base of his neck. His hand clenches on her waist and where her knee bends, fingers digging into her side and her thigh. She’s warm but it’s not unbearable, not as long as it’s coming from Archie. Nothing wrong ever comes from Archie. It’s a known fact of her life and she’s missed being in his arms. 

“Veronica,” he murmurs in her ear as he lays her down on a bed. She doesn’t let go of him, pulling him down with her. She’s half asleep still but she can’t imagine ever wanting to let him go. “Come on, let go.”

“Hmmmno,” she mumbles, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Cuddle me, Archiekins.”

“Veronica!” Archie shouts, making her jump a little and open her eyes wide. It all rushes back to her then. It’s not Archie and they’re not home in her room at the Pembroke. It’s Jughead and he’s staring at her with wide eyes. “You fell asleep in the truck.”

Her hands are still wrapped around his neck, her body half turned towards him in the bed. Veronica jerks her hands free and falls back onto the bed, averting her eyes from him entirely. She stares up at the popcorn ceiling with wide eyes, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. She doesn’t remember falling asleep, doesn’t really remember anything past changing the radio station during the drive. 

“I tried waking you up,” Jughead mumbles, scratching the back of his neck. He hasn’t moved from the edge of the bed but Veronica refuses to make eye contact with him. “But you were super out and it just seemed easier to . . .” he trails off, ending with a weak shrug. 

“Thank you,” she says softly, voice thick with some unnamed emotion. She wants to curl into a ball and turn her back on him. It’s an entirely childish and stupid reaction to have but she can’t chase the feeling away. Jughead is still staring at her like she’s grown a second head. “What?”

“There’s only the one bed,” he mumbles, looking around the small room. Veronica sits straight up, hoping that it was some twisted joke. “It's not like we haven’t shared before.”

“Right,” Veronica replies with a nod. She swings her feet off the bed, finally turning her back on Jughead’s probing stare. She doesn’t know why this feels different though. Why everything about this moment feels thick and heavy and like everything that she’d run away from in Riverdale. “I’ll just get ready for bed.”

Veronica doesn’t let him say anything else before she’s grabbing her bag and rushing into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. Her braid is coming loose, flyaways sticking out in every direction, and there’s red lines along the side of her face from the truck’s seatbelt. She isn’t wearing any makeup and the circles under her eyes are the darkest they’ve ever been. She looks haggard, embarrassingly so even if the only person who’s seen her is Jughead. Veronica still has standards to maintain, after all. 

As she washes her face and brushes her teeth, Veronica can’t stop thinking about her dream. She hadn’t dreamt of Archie once since she left Riverdale and she had foolishly hoped that it would stay that way. Jughead had made an effort not to mention their forgotten beaus and Veronica had done the same. They were done with Riverdale and all of the heartbreak that horrible little town had to offer them. She was moving on. They both were. 

But it doesn’t change the fact that she’d been happy in that split second when she thought Archie was holding her. She felt at peace in a way that only Archie had been able to inspire. And she’d kissed Jughead. By accident, of course, but it doesn’t change the fact that her lips touched his skin. Veronica sits down on the toilet and presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, groaning. 

“You know you’re not the only one who needs to use the bathroom,” Jughead shouts through the bathroom door. When Veronica doesn’t answer, he kicks at the door twice. “Come on, Veronica. Sharing is caring.”

“And patience is a virtue!” she snaps, glaring at the door. She doesn’t move from the toilet though. Its stupid to be embarassed but Veronica can’t make herself move. She can’t face him, doesn’t want to face him. For the first time, she regrets asking him to come with her on this wild adventure. 

“Veronica,” Jughead croons through the door. Veronica watches his shadow beneath through the gap at the bottom of the door. It's all that she can handle of him right now. “Veronica, are you okay?”

“Of course,” she croaks out through a tight throat. She coughs, clearing her throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You called me Archiekins,” Jughead says with a sigh. He leans his back against the bathroom door, sliding down until he’s sitting. “Albeit, you were half asleep and had no idea where you were.”

“I was there,” Veronica bites out. “You don’t need to remind me.”

“It’s just that it’s not that big of a deal,” Jughead says. Veronica knows that he’s trying to comfort her, trying to be a friend. She doesn’t want any of it. “You don’t need to be embarrassed.”

“I never said I was embarrassed,” Veronica says. She gets up from the toilet and goes over to the door. She doesn’t open it though. She’s not ready for that. She just leans against it and sits down on the ground. “Veronica Lodge doesn’t get embarrassed.”

“And yet here we are talking through a door,” Jughead points out. Veronica rolls her eyes, scoffing a little. “You may not be saying the word embarrassed but actions speak louder than words.”

“Don’t you think enough cliches have been thrown around tonight?” Veronica asks, knowing that usually it was that kind of comment that could send Jughead on a tangent all his own. 

“Nice try,” he mumbles, pulling his knees up to his chest. He wraps his arms around his shins and rests his chin on his shoulder. She laughs softly through the door and the sound tugs at the corner of his mouth. There hasn’t been much laughter on this little road trip of theirs. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Are you trying to be a shoulder for me to cry on?” Veronica asks, skepticism thick in her voice. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jughead replies with a tired sigh. He rubs his eyes and checks the time. It’s late and they have the last leg of their drive tomorrow. “I just don’t get this wall you put up. If anyone is gonna get it, it’s going to be me.”

“Can we please skip over the tender heart-to-heart part of this road trip?” Veronica asks. She wipes at the tears that are streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t even know when she started crying. “I really could do without it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Jughead replies with a laugh. He wipes a hand down his face and cracks his neck. “Didn’t feel right anyways.”

“Thank god,” Veronica replies. “I don’t know what I would do if you tried. Admit to being friends? Hug it out, maybe?”

“Ugh. Gross.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you ever going to come out of the bathroom?” Jughead asks as he unlaces his boots. “Not that I mind having the bed all to myself tonight, of course. I just can’t see you being very comfortable in the tub.”

Veronica opens the door suddenly, letting Jughead tumble backwards into her shins. He glares up at her, mouth pressing into a thin frown that only makes Veronica laugh. She hops over him and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling her knees into her chest. Jughead doesn’t move from the floor as he finishes pulling off his boots. Veronica can feel his eyes on her but she doesn’t make eye contact, doesn’t look away from the stain on the carpet that reminds her of Pop Tate for some reason. 

“It’s okay to miss him,” Jughead says into the quiet of the motel room. Veronica almost rolls her eyes. She hates how persistent he can be, always pushing whatever point it is that he’s trying to make. “And it’s okay to be mad at yourself for missing him.”

“I thought we were skipping the heart felt moment?” Veronica mumbles into her arms. She rests her cheek on her knee and closes her eyes, inhaling deeply. 

“We’ll be in Boston tomorrow,” Jughead says with a shrug. He stands up and stretches, cracking his back as he goes. “I want to make sure we tick all of the life changing road trip boxes.”

“Life changing, huh?” Veronica murmurs as Jughead sits on the bed next to her. It’s queen sized but with Jughead sitting next to her, it feels tiny. Too tiny for the two of them and all of their baggage. “Has running away with me changed your life, Jughead Jones?”

“Something like that,” he says with a sigh before laying back on the bed. Veronica copies him, dangling her feet off the edge. “I don’t know if I’d have ever left without being pushed out the door.”

“What about college?” Veronica asks, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. His eyes are closed, chest rising and falling slowly. He almost looks like he’s fallen asleep. “Wasn’t Yale your big get out of jail free card?”

“Was being the operative word,” Jughead mumbles, mouth barely moving. Veronica raises her eyebrows, silently waiting for him to explain further. “Faking my death kind of ruined those plans. They gave my spot to Betty.”

“And she accepted,” Veronica supplies easily. Jughead nods. “And you were okay with that?”

“It’s her dream school,” Jughead says like that explains everything. 

“Your dream, too,” Veronica replies. “Your dream that you earned. You got the spot, not Betty.”

“You don’t get it,” Jughead says, shaking his head and sitting up. He runs a hand through his hair and Veronica thinks that he’s overdue for a haircut. It doesn’t stop her from wanting to run her fingers through his dark curls. She digs her fingers into the scratchy comforter instead. “Yale was only a dream as long as Betty was there with me. We were going to fix it during the quiz show, get her into Yale so that we could go together.”

“And instead of going together,” Veronica continues for him. “Betty took your spot and didn’t look back.”

The unsaid  _ without you _ hangs heavy in the air. Jughead glares at Veronica over his shoulder but she doesn’t take it back or apologize. There’s no point in apologizing for saying the truth. A truth that Jughead is already fully aware of based on the way his shoulders slump and he falls back onto the bed. 

“Well, it’s not like you and Archie were going to ride off into the sunset together,” Jughead grumbles, covering his eyes with his forearm. “You didn’t have a happy ending in that town either.”

“Maybe not,” Veronica says, going for casual indifference. Her throat feels tight and she’s sure that her voice is nothing close to being normal. “But we always knew that. We never pretended otherwise.”

Jughead turns his head to look at her, eyebrows arching upwards. If they weren’t both so damn tired, so spread thin by the days of driving, Veronica would think he was mocking her. He’s not, though, just asking the question without actually opening his mouth. Veronica doesn’t know if she’s always been able to read his face like this or if it’s something that happened over the past few days. Veronica rolls her eyes and sighs, “He did mention something about following me to Cambridge. Once. Back when Harvard was the plan.”

“And when Harvard stopped being the plan?” 

“That’s when the conversations stopped,” Veronica explains. She rolls onto her side, tucking one hand under her head and letting the other barely graze Jughead’s side. “Kind of got distracted by other things. Like murders and voyeur tapes and hiding the fact that I knew my boyfriend had cheated on me.”

“Just little things,” Jughead says with a bitter laugh. He copies Veronica’s position, rolling onto his side as well. “Kind of hard to worry about the future when you’re constantly fearing for your life.”

Veronica nods in agreement, index finger tapping out a rhythm against the mattress. Jughead reaches down and clutches her fingers in his hand, squeezing a little too tight. She doesn’t complain, doesn’t even react to the sudden contact. Despite her best judgement, it feels good to be touched by someone else.

“What are you going to do tomorrow?” Jughead asks. 

She vaguely remembers him asking about her plans for Boston when they’d first started this journey. She doesn’t have any more of an answer now than she did back then. But she can hear the nerves in his voice even if he would never admit to them. Veronica licks her lips and clears her throat before answering, “GED is the first on the list.”

“Of course,” Jughead agrees with a nod. “And then?”

“College?” Veronica says even though it comes out as a question. “A job? I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You mean you, Veronica Lodge, don’t have every detail of your future planned out?” Jughead asks with a laugh. “Color me shocked.”

“Well running away from home tends to throw a wrench in one’s plans,” Veronica replies, laughing with him. It’s a ridiculous thing to laugh at but there’s been very little laughter during this trip. They’re both overdue. “What about you, Jones? What’s your plan?”

“Don’t have one,” Jughead says, running his thumb over her knuckles. His grip is looser and, if they were anyone else, Veronica would say that they were holding hands. “Didn’t really think that far ahead either.”

“For two relatively intelligent people,” Veronica says slowly, looking Jughead straight in the eye for the first time since she came out of the bathroom. “We’re both being pretty fucking stupid right now.”

“I think that might just be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Jughead says with a slight smirk. “I’m going to write this down in my journal and everything.”

“You’re an idiot,” Veronica mumbles. 

“And yet here we are,” Jughead says, squeezing her hand a little. 

“Here we are,” Veronica repeats. She doesn’t think about it too hard before leaning over and kissing the corner of his mouth. Jughead freezes. Veronica shakes her head and sits up in the bed. “Don’t think about it too hard, Jughead. You’ll just hurt yourself.”

He takes her advice and shuts off the part of his brain that is freaking out. The part of his brain that wants to reach across the bed and pull her back to him. The part of his brain that can’t help but wonder just what it is she uses in her hair to make it smell like flowers all of the damn time. He turns all of that off and grabs his bag before hurrying into the bathroom, locking the door behind him like she had done barely an hour ago. When he comes back out after brushing his teeth and changing into his pajamas, Veronica is already curled up under the comforter fast asleep. 

#  -

“I was thinking I’d go visit my mom,” Jughead offers with a shrug during breakfast after a week in Boston. “See how she’s doing.”

“Are you sure?” Veronica asks before sipping her coffee. Boston isn’t anything like she expected but she sees herself making a life here. A small part of her pictured Jughead as part of that life. In what role, she has no idea but he was always there, lurking on the sidelines. “I thought things with your mom weren’t great.”

“They aren’t,” Jughead concedes with a sigh. “But they could be better. With time.”

Veronica tilts her head, eyes scanning his face. He doesn’t make eye contact with her and just continues to eat his breakfast. He doesn’t owe her any more explanation than that. They’d never talked about what would happen to them once they got to Boston. Not that there is a  _ them _ per say. They’ve never been a team and Jughead never thought that Veronica would have a problem with him leaving. 

“It’ll be lonely without you,” Veronica finally admits. Jughead’s fork pauses above his plate, looking up at Veronica through his lashes. “I got used to having you around, I suppose.”

“I’m not leaving just yet,” Jughead mumbles. He leans back in his chair and scratches the bridge of his nose. Veronica isn’t looking at him, eyes distant and sad. “It was just an idea.” Veronica’s eyes dart towards him, silently questioning. “I could stay. If you want.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Veronica replies quickly. There are butterflies in her stomach and, if she were anyone else, she’d called the feeling hopeful. “I’d never ask you to stay, Jones. It’s bad enough that I even asked you to leave Riverdale with me.”

“I wouldn’t be staying for you,” Jughead lies. Veronica’s cheeks heat up just the tiniest bit and she tries to hide it in her mug of coffee. “Just. I don’t have to leave for Toledo anytime soon. Like I said, just an idea.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Veronica says slowly. “Toledo, I mean. Family is important.”

“Says the girl who left her entire family behind,” Jughead replies because this conversation is getting too soft for either of them to handle well. The tension drains out of Veronica’s shoulders and her grip on her coffee mug loosens. 

“Pot meet kettle,” Veronica says with a shrug. “Not all of us have a gang leader turned cop for a daddy, Jones. Sometimes cutting ties is best. Thought you knew that considering everything that happened with your kingpin of a mother.”

“Didn’t you just say that Toledo was a good idea?” Jughead replies with a scoff. 

Veronica finishes her coffee and stands up so that she can look down at him as she says, “On further reflection, it’s probably a terrible idea and I’d be a shitty roommate if I encouraged such a foolhardy endeavour.”

“Have you been talking to Cheryl lately and not telling me about it?” Jughead asks, narrowing his eyes. Veronica gasps dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she takes her cleaned breakfast dishes to the kitchen. “Thought we left the high and mighty language behind?”

“You really need to start listening to yourself when you speak,” Veronica says over her shoulder. “You have zero room to judge anyone.”

“Fair.”

Veronica laughs and turns around so that she can see the small dining table. Jughead is starting at his breakfast as if it holds all the secrets to the universe. She’s not quite sure when she got used to his presence - if it happened when they were still in Riverdale or if a week in a tiny truck cab is what did it for her. She wraps her arms around her waist and bites her lip before saying, “I’m not ready for you to not be here.”

Jughead looks up at her with wide eyes and a mouth full of food. She waits for him to swallow and clear his throat, fingers digging into her sides and her throat growing tighter with each passing second. He finishes his coffee, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and says, “Then I’ll stay.”

“Don’t pity me, Jones,” Veronica says even though she’s starting to smile. 

“No pity,” Jughead says, shaking his head. He leans back and crosses his arms, shrugging. “You’re not ready for me to not be here and I’m not ready to go yet. So, I’ll stay.”

“That simple?” Veronica asks. 

“That simple,” he replies. “I’ll stay until you’re ready for me to go.”

Veronica doesn’t say anything else but the thought floats across her mind all the same:  _ I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. _ She pushes it away, buries it deep in the back corners of her mind where it belongs. He’s staying for now and Veronica isn’t going to argue, isn’t going to ruin a perfect moment. He’s staying and things seem just the tiniest bit brighter for the both of them.

**Author's Note:**

> and no i am not sure if i'm going to continue this to more than just this one part. right now i feel good about the ending. let's just let it exist as is, shall we?


End file.
